


New Year, New You, New... Us?

by aveyune23



Series: It Was Always You [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drunk Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Morning After, New Year's Eve, New Year's Resolutions, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 10:48:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13246623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aveyune23/pseuds/aveyune23
Summary: Jyn doesn’t really do New Year’s resolutions.That is, until she wakes up in Cassian Andor’s bed January 1st, 2018 with no clothes on and a hangover the size of the Empire State Building.(Featuring everyone’s favorite trope: “main characters have drunken sex and wake up the next morning to either discuss or ignore their feelings.” You get to find out which.)





	New Year, New You, New... Us?

**Author's Note:**

> Yknow, sometimes you just have to fall into the trope trap, because it’s a new year, and you feel like being sappy. Please enjoy.

Jyn wasn’t really into New Year’s resolutions. They always felt sort of hollow (“everyone’s doing it!”), and she never seemed to stick to them anyway. She had given up on them long ago.

That is, until this morning, the first day of 2018, when she woke up in a bed that  _definitely_ wasn’t hers, naked, and with a headache so massive she was sure her skull was going to split open and her brain would fall onto the floor to slither away under the bed and die. Die from dehydration, and residual alcohol, and  _mortification._ Because despite her hangover, she knew where she was, and the embarrassment was enough to make her puke.

But that could have been the hangover.

 

* * *

_The music was loud, and the pounding of the bass buzzed in her ears, singing along with the booze in her brain. Leia’s Dad was a senator, and thus rich, and thus this was one hell of a party. It always was._

_Every New Years Eve, Leia Organa threw a massive party at her family’s penthouse in Manhattan. They had been having this party ever since they met at university. None of them would have ever met if they hadn’t ended up in the same class at school (“Perspectives of the Civil War,” an elective that they had been told would be easy credit), but their motley crew had come together out of sheer boredom with the course, and now they were all close friends, even after graduation._

_There were a lot of people at the party, most of them friends of the family, but the Civil War crew staked a claim at a table near the open bar, and it didn’t take long for them to get spectacularly drunk._

_”Alright!” shouted Luke over the music. “Resolutions! Go!”_

_Kay rolled his eyes. “We go over this every year. Everyone knows that statistically speaking, no one ever follows through—“_

_”We KNOW, Kay!”_

_Jyn giggled and looked at Cassian, who was Kay’s oldest friend. He looked back at her, his brown eyes glinting with humor. She felt her stomach flip. But that could have been the martini she was drinking._

_”I’m going to try for City Board,” said Leia. Everyone grinned at her. She was a born politician, just like her dad._

_Han rolled his eyes. “Miss Student Government.” But he grabbed her ass and planted a kiss on the top of her head anyway. She swatted at him._

_”And what about you?” she demanded._

_He smirked. “I told you. I’m gonna win the lottery and get rich.”_

_Bodhi laughed. “You say that EVERY year.”_

_Kay piped up, “I told you, statistically speaking—“_

_Cassian clapped a hand on Kay’s shoulder. “Don’t you have one?” he asked. Kay looked down at his drink._

_”Well... maybe...”_

_Everyone immediately started shouting at him, begging to know what it was. Jyn laughed and excused herself, wanting a fresh drink. Cassian followed her._

_”You look nice,” he said, almost having to shout over the music. Jyn squinted at him._

_”What?”_

_He brought his face closer to hers. “You look nice!” he repeated. Jyn felt her face flush. Truth be told, she hadn’t put much thought into what she was wearing, but she was suddenly self-conscious of the short skirt and low back. Alcohol buzzed in her veins, making her warm. The bartender came over and she ordered another martini. Cassian grinned at her and ordered a tequila on the rocks. While the bartender poured the drinks, he watched her fiddle with a lock of hair that had fallen from the knot she wore. He reached out and tucked it behind her ear._

_That was always happening, she thought. Small touches. Lingering glances. Every year, every party, every night out at a bar. And every time she put it out of her mind, because it was Cassian. Her friend._

_But this year..._

_”Do you want to dance?” she asked. He grinned at her._

_”Sure.”_

* * *

 

Jyn groaned internally. Dancing. Why had she thought it was a good idea to dance with him? She was drunk, that’s why, and she had made the dumbass drunk decision to finally see where those small touches would go if she pushed it.

The hand on her hip twitched, gently squeezed. She froze.

She was never drinking gin martinis ever again.

* * *

 

_He was a good dancer._

_She was most certainly NOT._

_But he pulled her close, his hands first on a respectable part of her waist, and then sliding lower as the music changed songs to something a bit more... grinding. Somewhere along the way their drinks were set down, and his hands were gripping the fabric of her dress, and her fingers were curled against the nape of his neck. Her veins buzzed, and the room wouldn’t stay still, and the only thing that was keeping her upright was his hands on her hips, on her lower back, his palms pressed to the exposed skin. His lips somehow found their way to her neck, and his breath was hot in her ear. Her eyes closed, heart racing. He was just so CLOSE. He took up all of the physical space in the room and in her mind. The music pulsed, one song melding seamlessly into the next (Damn, the DJ was good), and somehow his hips and hers were pressed together, and she clung to him._

_She should say something. Pull away. Stop this train from crashing. But then his mouth was hot on the spot where her neck and shoulder met, and she threw all caution to the wind._

_She was drunk. So was he. And clearly this was something that had been simmering for a long time. She just hadn’t realized it until now. Maybe he hadn’t either. He felt good. And she hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Maybe she should..._

_”Do you want to get out of here?”_

_It took her a moment to realize he had spoken. His hands were still on her, and she was having trouble concentrating._

_But she nodded._

* * *

Her head was pounding. She could feel his breath, soft of the back of her neck. Maybe she could just slip away — but no, he had his arm around her waist, and there was no way she would be able to extricate herself without waking him up. She was just going to die there, then. Hopefully soon. She often wished that she were dead when she had hangovers like this. She never thought she would want to die from embarrassment.

* * *

_He kissed her in the taxi._

_His lips were soft, and warm, and tasted like El Mayor reposado. Her hands were on his chest, and she thought that she could feel his heart pounding._

_The cab driver yelled at them to knock it off, to wait until he dropped them off, so they kept their hands to themselves as best they could, but his hand had found its way between her knees, resting on her thigh, and he was turned towards her, lips pressed to the spot beneath her ear. She thought she was going to die._

_His apartment was close. They stumbled out, Cassian chucked money at the driver. They somehow made it up the stairs. He fumbled for his keys, they practically fell through the door. His arms caught her, they laughed a little breathlessly. Their mouths made contact, and his tongue pressed against hers, tentative. She answered with a kiss that was more confident than she really felt. Holy shit, what were they doing?_

_What WASNT she going to do?_

_His hands were everywhere, pawing at the hem of her skirt. She yanked his shirt from his pants, helped him pull it over his head and tossed it to the floor. They were moving, towards what she hoped was a bed, or the couch, or any horizontal surface, really. She ached for him, was surprised by how badly she wanted this. Her thighs collided with something solid, and he was pushing her back, laying her down on his bed. He fell between her open legs, pressed against her, and she groaned into his mouth. He was hard against her thigh and she moved her hips up, towards his, and it was his turn to groan. He pulled away, stood up, started unbuckling his belt. She sat up long enough to pull her dress over her head, throwing it away from her and putting her hands on his now bare hips, pulling him back to her._

_And then he was THERE, and her head fell back against the pillow, eyes closed, mouth open in a gasp. Her hands clawed at his back, nails digging into his shoulders. He pressed wet kisses to her neck, to her breasts, his arms braced on either side of her head, hips moving steady at first, and then less so, until she had to meet him there, rolling her hips up, relishing the friction._

_Her name fell from his lips like a prayer, like he had to say it to believe it. She silenced him with her lips, gripped his hips, then fell back, begged him to complete her. His forehead pressed against hers, he groaned, hips bucking, and she felt herself condense and shatter._

 

* * *

Oh fucking hell, they didn’t use a condom.

Her fingers went to the inside of her upper arm, probing the skin. Oh good. Implant was still there.

She sighed. Well, happy new year, Jyn.

He shifted next to her, his arm tightening around her, and then his body went stiff.

Shit, he was awake.

They laid there, both frozen. He was the first to speak.

”Um...”

Cassian Andor, always the eloquent one.

She sat up, the stickiness between her thighs coming apart. Her head was pounding.

”I need some fucking Tylenol.”

He stifled what may have been a laugh. “Bathroom. Top drawer.”

She stood. The room shifted then settled back into place. She was still naked, but all she had was her dress from the party. It was probably more dignified to be naked.

She trudged in a death march to the bathroom down the hall, dug through the drawers, grabbed the bottle. Went to the kitchen and poured water into the biggest cup she could find. When she came back, he had at least put on pants. His hair was messy. 

He looked perfect.

”Here,” she said, shoving the pill bottle and the water at him before sitting down on the bed. So she was naked. Big deal. Own it.

If she was being honest with herself (and maybe that could be her New Years resolution: honesty), she wasn’t really that embarrassed. In the light of day — and it was really too bright, but it illuminated things all the same — she found that it somehow felt right. It felt sort of natural to be sitting naked in his bed. She wished she wasn’t hungover as fuck, but either way...

”So...” he began.

”Do you regret it?” she asked him suddenly. Wow, she was taking that whole resolution thing really seriously.

He stared at her wide-eyed for a moment, almost a moment too long. Her heart began to sink, and her shoulders slumped, but then he said “no” very softly. She met his eyes.

”I don’t,” he said. “Do you?”

She swallowed, feeling like she was about to jump off a cliff.

”No.”

They stared at each other, and then his shoulders began to shake, and then they were laughing nervously, and then loudly, overcome with the ridiculousness of it.

He caught her lips in a sudden kiss. When he pulled away, she stared at him, a blush rising in her cheeks.

”Is this— is that okay?”

She nodded. “Do you — do you want to get some coffee?” 

“I have a French press here,” he said. “Yknow, if you wanted to stay... in.”

She looked at the dress on the floor, thought about how it would look to go to a coffee shop on New Years Day in what was very obviously an outfit from the night before.

”Sure.” She glanced down at her naked body. “Could I, um... borrow some clothes?”

”Yeah, of course!”

He jumped up, began rummaging through a dresser. 

“Cassian?”

He stopped and looked up at her. “What?”

”Did we fuck in 2017 or 2018?”

He had the grace to blush, bless him.

”Um, 2018? Why?”

She sat back on the bed, aware that he was staring. 

“I was just thinking. Resolutions and all.”

”Oh?” He handed her a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

”Yeah.”

”Do you have one?”

She nodded. “I thought I could work on being honest.”

He grinned at her. “And?”

She smirked up at him. “Thanks for a good start to the new year.”

He leaned down and pressed a slow kiss to her lips. “Can I be honest too?”

”Sure.”

He kissed her again and pulled away and said, ”I’ve been wanting to do that since that fucking college course.”

She laughed. “Go make me some coffee.”

He kissed her again and left the room. Jyn found her purse and dug through it, pulling out her phone, which had blown up with texts from everyone, Leia all the way down Kay, all wondering where she was.

Leia was the one that got it right.

_You didn’t come home. I’m assuming you’re at Cassian’s? Don’t come home on my account. Stay there. It’s about damn time._

She grinned and slid into the sweatpants and T-shirt, and dropped her phone onto the floor with her discarded party dress. She could smell coffee coming from the kitchen.

So maybe resolutions weren’t so bad. She figured she could stick to this one.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was so fun. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @kotaface for previews of future stuff, tiny drabbles, or just to chat!


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